him insanely obstinate.

"Very well, I promised to let you if you really wanted it, and I keep my
promise. When do you go to Germany?"

Philip's heart beat violently. The battle was won, and he did not know
whether he had not rather lost it.

"At the beginning of May, sir," he answered.

"Well, you must come and see us when you get back."

He held out his hand. If he had given him one more chance Philip would
have changed his mind, but he seemed to look upon the matter as settled.
Philip walked out of the house. His school-days were over, and he was
free; but the wild exultation to which he had looked forward at that
moment was not there. He walked round the precincts slowly, and a profound
depression seized him. He wished now that he had not been foolish. He did
not want to go, but he knew he could never bring himself to go to the
headmaster and tell him he would stay. That was a humiliation he could
never put upon himself. He wondered whether he had done right. He was
dissatisfied with himself and with all his circumstances. He asked himself
dully whether whenever you got your way you wished afterwards that you
hadn't.

XXII

Philip's uncle had an old friend, called Miss Wilkinson, who lived in
Berlin. She was the daughter of a clergyman, and it was with her father,
the rector of a village in Lincolnshire, that Mr. Carey had spent his last
curacy; on his death, forced to earn her living, she had taken various
situations as a governess in France and Germany. She had kept up a
correspondence with Mrs. Carey, and two or three times had spent her
holidays at Blackstable Vicarage, paying as was usual with the Careys'
unfrequent guests a small sum for her keep. When it became clear that it
was less trouble to yield to Philip's wishes than to resist them, Mrs.
Carey wrote to ask her for advice. Miss Wilkinson recommended Heidelberg
as an excellent place to learn German in and the house of Frau Professor
Erlin as a comfortable home. Philip might live there for thirty marks a
week, and the Professor himself, a teacher at the local high school, would
instruct him.

Philip arrived in Heidelberg one morning in May. His things were put on a
barrow and he followed the porter out of the station. The sky was bright
blue, and the trees in the avenue through which they passed were thick
with leaves; there was something in the air fresh to Philip, and mingled
with the timidity he felt at entering on a new life, among stra